The Barrister
by unhappytidings
Summary: Draco is now a successful barrister for the Ministry, which moves him closer to getting his father out of prison.  The best way to prove that he is worthy of redemption would be to get the trio on his side right? Drarry & Non-epilogue compliant
1. Another Successful Case

Disclaimer: I do not plan to ever make any money from my endeavors in fanfiction. The Harry Potter franchise is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

AN: So this happened to come out instead of the chapter I was struggling to finish up. It is kind of epilogue compliant, except for a few minor tweaks. The most obvious tweak being the main couple. Hope you like it. Besides, I'm trying thing where I reply to all my reviews. By the way, this is rated 'M' for a reason. Draco is an explicit thinker. Although there will be nothing exceedingly graphic, he always does what benefits him.

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**The Barrister**

The court room was so packed full of witches and wizards that July afternoon that the sweat coming off of all of them could have supplied water to the Thames for an extra day. Draco Malfoy wondered if it were possible to have a room that smelled any worse than this one. Intense humidity made every judge on the Wizengamot look exceedingly put out and disgusting. For many the plum-colored robes were matching their overheated faces. If the Minister for Magic, one Kingsley Shacklebolt had hair, it would be stuck all to his brow, as was the suit of every member surrounding him. The Minister looked up over the thick stack of manila documents to the table, where Draco respectfully met his gaze. Kingsley gave him a slight nod and upon returning his wand to its place after having used it as a magnifying glass for several minutes, looked about his fellow members and then to the audience all chatting amongst themselves. "Does the defendant have any further evidence to offer, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy suppressed a grin as he stood and approached the center of the stuffy and finely tiled room. He did not even bother looking at his client, it would be best if Blaise Zabini kept his mouth shut. He tended to get far too passionate when he was nervous. Malfoy crossed his arms and he was certain a few of the people in the audience gasped. "Just one remaining item I would like to offer to the Wizengamot on the behalf of my client." Kingsley looked amused at the very least, leaning his chin in his hand.

"You may proceed."

"Mr. Zabini has no motive to carry out the crime Ms. Edgecombe believes he committed. It is clear to everyone in this room that Mr. Zabini comes from a pureblood family, as well as Ms. Edgecombe. As I am sure that many of you know, pureblood families follow many archaic ideals and rituals. Stealing jewelry from the Edgecombe family, when the Mrs. Zabini has plenty of jewelry from her several suitors would be considered meaningless in the first place."

The middle-aged prosecutor stood and objected on the grounds of hearsay. Kingsley warned him, but let Draco continue.

"As I was saying, Mr. Zabini has a high-paying profession as editor of Quidditch Quarterly, there is no reason or opportunity that has been presented in this case that would allow Mr. Zabini to be allowed onto the property of the Edgecombe residence. " The prosecution tried to cut in here, but Draco pushed on, running a hand through his hair to keep in out of his face as he looked Kingsley in the eyes.

"And if my client had been engaging in an affair with this woman, when he is already in a high profile relationship with Gabrielle Delacour, the Witch Weekly model-" Draco spied a glance at the frankly, atrocious looking Marietta in an itchy-looking orange jumper and clog-like shoes. She was bright red. The audience broke out into loud talk, somewhere behind Draco's back.

"Ms. Edgecombe would have something of his. A single picture of the two of them? There is no evidence of any illicit relationship. The last time Mr. Zabini came by Ms. Edgecombe, it is agreed by both the defense and the prosecution it was to settle a debt between the families. The Edgecombe and Zabini estates are on notoriously bad terms. Furthermore, if this supposed jewelry was actually Ms. Edgecombe's then it would have been embellished with the Edgecombe insignia. Family jewelry, down to the tiniest bauble will at the very least have the last name on the back of the plating. There are no receipts or a large amount of fortune to be had at the Edgecombe estate. For Ms. Edgecombe to spend 4 times her marriage dowry seems improbable, but also preposterous. As was mentioned earlier, my client has a _very _good job. It would seem that my client is merely being victimized for his fortune from a stranger he hardly knows."

Draco turned to find his good friend waving a thin receipt paper at him. He had written on the back of it and was waving it at Draco to see. He caught a house elf making a quick exit out the wide chestnut doors a moment later. The barrister can suppress his grin no longer as he takes the receipt and hands it off to the auror on duty, who then hands it directly to the Minister. "In closing, my client pleads not guilty on all charges. The defense rests." Draco took a seat next to Blaise and downed the tall glass of water that had been waiting for him.

Kingsley looked over the receipt for an entirety of a second before the prosecution tried to stand. Kingsley quieted them. "With this new evidence, it would seem unnecessary to continue. The court will now decide." The Wizengamot was almost unanimous in favor of Zabini. Edgecombe was dismissed and everyone cleared out quickly.

Blaise punched Draco hard on the shoulder as he stood. "I can't believe you got me out of that one." The blonde held his tongue as they exited the courtroom. The press was waiting for the pair of them, effectively blocking them from exiting the cool hallway of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco asked that they hold pictures until they had finished interviewing. Draco wanted to get the chance to look less sweaty if this was going to make the Prophet. He cast a few discreet charms on his hair and face, which made him feel much better in the process. After Zabini had said his bit on how glorious his barrister was, they had a couple shots together before Zabini started off toward the exit. Draco walked alongside him toward the elevator. As they waited for the slow machine to lurch to a stop on their floor, he made it a point to hand the Prophet and the Quibbler his calling card. He would arrange a more in-depth interview when it better suited him. After all, everyone would make more money that way. Blaise and himself stepped into the elevator smartly, after his friend had whipped his wand to make the doors close before any of the reporters could slip in. As the elevator creaked slowly upwards, Blaise laughed.

"Honestly mate, you got me out of something that going to cost me hundreds of galleons. I didn't steal that damned jewelry from her, she assumed it was hers. Of course it was for Gab. You resolved the case without having to mention that Marietta spent the last part of two months under my desk. She was absolutely nutter to think that anything would come of _that_ relationship." Draco searched his reflection past Blaise's body in the reflective surface of the elevator walls. His pale skin looked peaky and he definitely needed an afternoon off. Maybe even a long weekend. Yes, cool dip in the pool at the Manor will freshen him right up.

"You're absolutely insane to let that disgusting woman even touch you. Marietta Edgecombe is a tragedy. Besides, it is not like she was going to out your compromising relationship. She has little shreds of honor left to hold onto, I understand." Draco just had to laugh at the amused looked on Blaise's face. "I say, for good measure you file a restraining order against her. Oh and make sure you double your secretary's raise this year. Don't want any embarrassing revelations coming up." Blaise laughed in that cocky manner Draco was so used to and they walked out of the elevator together.

"Coming over later with Gabrielle, around seven? I'll have the bird over too." Draco asked, managing a posh grin to the nearest press.

"I can't. Gab's in France this week and I don't think I'll be having her on for much longer anyway. She's starting to ask about for commitment and other ridiculous ideas. That Alicia Spinnet is looking fitter every moment." Blaise's wide white smile glinted against the green flames of the approaching floo network. Draco watched for a moment as Blaise adjusted his herringbone-detailed dress robes smartly before stepping into flames. "I'll be callin' 'round tomorrow evening. I forwarded your galleons to the office. Cheers!" He was gone the next moment. Draco smirked at the now empty fireplace. He took the one next to it and in a moment his mother's icy blue eyes were upon him. She was expecting him? Narcissa looked older now, at least to Draco she did. It had been seven years since the Battle for Hogwarts. At 26, he was a successful barrister and head of the Malfoy family. His father got twenty years in prison and passed over the besmirched Malfoy name for Draco to polish. Perhaps it was his father's absence or the aftermath of the war, but his mother had become much more of a homebody than she had ever been during Draco's youth. All of the silent evenings at home encouraged Draco's research.

It only took four short years for him to obtain his degree, but no one was interested in hiring on a former Death Eater- much less a racist. His father suggested that he start his own firm and all things considered, it was the best business move he could have made. At first it was only pureblooded families that would allow him to represent them, but purebloods did have friends that were not purebloods every once in a while.

Narcissa looked up from her book and smiled at him. She congratulated him and then patted the seat next to her. They spoke a while over the case. He gave her the dry version. His mother could do without the whole truth, sexual favors included. His mother's face did not look any different than ever, but her eyes looked tired. His mother was much too vain to allow such trifles as time to change her face. She was smirking at him as he observed her. Quietly she pulled a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ from beside the pristine white couch. The room was drafty and furnished in spring-like colors, yet it was dark. She must be avoiding the heat. After she balanced the paper on Draco's lap and drew the curtain to add light to the room she kissed him on the forehead.

"Take a swim today son. You deserve to take the afternoon off. Your father will be very proud." With that she checked the time from the ornate silver clock on a white marble table nearby and went directly to the floo. It was four pm and Narcissa visited her husband daily. With a singular snap a house elf appeared with her effects and she was gone from the fireplace. Draco let out a breath and practically threw off his robes and his fine dark blue silk vest. His clothes were uncomfortable and far too warm. Handing his discarded clothing to the house elf that was nearby; he walked briskly down the west wing of the Malfoy Manor. Fine Italian leather shoes tapped on the black marble as he shoved the _Prophet_ under one arm and loosened his tie. Divesting of it and handing it to the elf that was practically under his feet.

The skylight pouring reflections against cool blue water made the pool look like heaven. Draco couldn't lay the remainder of his things on the glass table fast enough. He pulled down his trousers and placed his rings on the table top, just as the newspaper unfolded to lay flat beside his family heirlooms. Grey eyes glanced at the headlines. 'GRANGER, WAR HERO LOST HER JOB BECAUSE OF BLOOD STATUS?' A raised eyebrow and a skinny dive into the pool later, Malfoy forgot everything. He floated in the pool. _Shameless_. What would he have to fear? His mother stayed the entire three hour visitation period and he expected no one. Draco looked at himself in the blue glow of the water. Proud was definitely a term he would use. This body was 80% inherent and 20% effort. Blaise wasn't the only playboy in Wizarding London after all. His fiancé understood. They had an arrangement. Astoria was definitely bred to be a perfect wife. She was easily able to work a room and she even had a wild streak a mile wide, but they were just mates. Although it had never been really written out, it was understood that this was something they both had to do. It isn't that he didn't like her or didn't find her attractive. Merlin, was she a fox. It was simply that he didn't feel particularly much beyond friends. She was talented between the sheets, but looking at her he saw companionship not passionate vibrancy. It would be like settling. So they'd marry, have an heir, divorce, and move on with their lives. Surfacing in the center, his eyes gazed at the crystal skylight.

The doors to the main hall creaked open suddenly and Draco struggled to find the effort to care. "Draco, look at this? I could have been the bleeding Minister. Just willing to show off the jewels to anyone these days?" For his part, he smirked and swam to edge of the pool. Astoria looked down at him her blouse already draping over his on the table. He folded his arms on the poolside, watching her undress like a cat that ate the canary. She giggled as he mustered his manners enough to assist her on the way in. "Glorious." Astoria said airily, her dirty blonde hair was already wet up to the chin. She wrapped her legs around his hips in a nanosecond. "Speaking of 'glorious' and 'jewels;' I heard a 'congratulations' is in order?" Draco slid his hands to ensnare around her hips, dipping a bit lower and disappearing in the water in a fluid movement. Astoria lofted a perfectly manicured eyebrow at his ministrations. "I take that as a 'yes?'" She let her grip around his hips slide a little, so she was riding a bit lower. "I'm offended Draco. No, how lovely of you to come over, strip, and jump in the pool with me, Astoria? How was your sodding day, Bird?" Draco pinned her against one of the tiled walls disharmoniously. His wand was summoned to lock the doors.

"Well, my day was good and honestly, if your day was terrible, it just got better." He offered, gripping her by the shoulders. This was their personal game. The couple flirted relentlessly, snuck around, and whispered things they both didn't really mean. He was certain that she had other partners and although that made him the slightest bit jealous, who was he to judge? So until they were married, it didn't really matter. From experience, Draco knew it was always more fun to pretend that the other person gave a rat's arse about you when you get their clothes off. Real talk was for when their clothes were on. Astoria knew that as he sunk into her, he hoped that she would find someone after their arrangement. It was also taboo to talk about any other rendezvous they were taking part in respectively. Do whoever, whatever, wherever, whenever, just so long as it's protected. Her echoes and his met each other on the ceiling. They repeated for a while before making it up to the sitting room to his bedroom. After Astoria took advantage of Draco's marble tub, she was fast asleep, strewn across his bed.

It was getting dark out now. He put a 'lumos' to the lantern out on his veranda and put his feet up on the railing of the table. As the purples and pinks met with the red sun; Draco spread out the newspaper on his lap. The pictures simultaneously came to life. He read the headline and inquired within.

_Hermione Granger (26) best known for her hand in the defeat of Lord Voldemort back in 1998 was let go from her job at St. Mungo's last Friday. Insiders say that after a heated spat with the Head Healer on duty, one Marjorie Heckle, Miss Granger was seen leaving quickly out the front entrance. Our sources say that the argument in question, which started as a simple disagreement about what floor she was to be walking and ended with Ms. Heckle saying that Miss Granger was an 'idiot' for being raised like such a 'filthy muggle.' Miss Granger could not be reached for comment. Although it is unclear whether or not our hero will press charges on the prejudice, it seems likely she has her work cut out for her. Article continues on C6. – Associated Press_

Draco folded the paper and set it aside. That would definitely be a comeback. A pureblood ex-Death Eater acts as barrister for the most popular muggleborn in all time. Oh yes, he would be acquiring in on that one soon. He watched as one of the male peacocks on the lawn spread their feathers out on display. The truth was the more he thought on it, it seemed unlikely she would accept help from him. A Malfoy isn't going to stoop to apologizing about ancient history. Would she be the type to overestimate her abilities in court? Would she go quietly and not say anything to her employer? No, he'll make her think _she _wants him. What's the quickest way to Hermione Granger?

There was a tap at the window of the veranda and he saw the figure of Astoria waving over her shoulder and into the fireplace. At least she didn't linger. _Hermione Granger_ lingered. Seduce? No, that was insulting to the both of them, mainly himself. In school she lingered all around Potter and the Weasels. No bloody way was he stooping to making buddy with a Weasel. He'd never hear the end of it. Harry Potter seemed easier. More likely to give second chances and all that rot, even if he was secretive. Tabloids were going mad about two years back when he cut it off with Ginerva Weasley and took up with a man. So, either make buddy with Hermione Granger or Harry Potter, to offer his services as barrister for Granger's cause. Win that case and Draco would be free to take on something like his father's parole. At the very least, to help a member of the Golden Trio in the public sense was like a free advertisement for your business. Operative: approach Potter first and ask questions later.

_TBC..._


	2. The Ace in the Hole

Disclaimer: Although I wish I could make money off of fanfiction, I am reminded that I do not own any of these characters, except maybe Leliana. The point is that J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. own it all and I just choose to spend countless hours using their characters for my musings.

AN: For all of you who are reading this and wondering why this has updated and Reminiscent has not, never fear. Reminiscent's newest chapter is actually under beta and I am just waiting for it to return to me so that I may share with you. I've been feeling pretty inspired for this story lately so you may be getting more soon. I do hope that you review, as it guilts me into updating faster and I love seeing what you have to say. Just a reminder, Draco Malfoy is an explicit thinker and doer, so if you are looking for less explicit men, you may not want to continue on.

To Moonlightwolfwhisper: Curious as always, I see. Thank you for such a thoughtful and concise review.

To AlineDaryen : Playboy!Draco is very much a part of my head!canon. I am thankful that you thought my writing nice enough to overlook such trifles. 3

To Acceptancewriter: Hopefully you did!

Tiliapetiolaris: I do so solemnly swear that next chapter will be a bit more difficult for Draco. Unfortunately it isn't his charm that is his downfall, but rather his connections, past, and ambition.

Musicrocks129: Thanks for the review.

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He felt it somewhere far off. The throbbing in his hand was as consistent as the lively beat in the club he got pissed in last night. Draco knew the tempo of pain throbbing from the tips of his fingers to the edge of his dark mark would never stop, unlike the hangover that was already in full swing. Making a quick sweep of his bedside table without daring open his eyes he had made quick work of the drawn curtains and was summoning the hangover potion that he visualized on his counter in the other room. It too was choked back, before he did a sweep with his bad hand to the other half of his bed. _Occupied._

Draco racked his brain for a short moment before the form beside him, laughed. _Laughed _at Draco Malfoy while he was in this ridiculous state, that was unheard of. Before Draco had time to properly scathe, some long, slender fingers had taken him by the shoulder and rolled him over on top of a muscular frame. Definitely male. Avoided cursed hand. Must know the man particularly. Before Draco began wondering if it was worth opening his eyes out of curiosity, a familiar voice came to him.

"Stop wondering who I am, Malfoy. It's just Theo." Draco wondered if he looked visibly relieved after the news. At least, he knew he had a good time last night. The blonde stretched and used Nott's shoulder as a pillow.

"Just you, Nott? You always leave before sunup. You normally put a nice little announcement card on my sink, with exactly what I missed last night. Why didn't you leave?" A bit curious at what his words might do, Draco opened his eyes cautiously. With how Theo was laying, however he just had a nice view of a fit chest with sparse hair. Too much _effort. _ Lazily, his eyes slid shut once more.

"Honestly Malfoy, you don't remember? You begged me to come in. You had something you were particularly interested in…" With a solid push, Theo was stark naked on the floor, tangled in the sheets that unfortunately went with him.

An irritated groan escaped the blonde's lips before he pulled at the sheet on the other side of him.. "Too early for witty banter, get out." Theo's wholesome laugh filled the room and after some rustling, the door clicked behind him. Suspicious of what kind of payback Theo had awaiting him, Draco opened his eyes again. His room was as it always was. The curtains were shut tight, everything was righted except the doors to his balcony. The doors were letting in the cold air from the early morning. There it was. On the floor in the light emitted from the balcony was an awkward shadow. Draco lay there for several moments wondering what it was that must be dangling from the balcony and as his hangover faded, Draco slid out of bed onto his feet. Pulling the sheet with him Draco found a pair of men's knickers enlarged and hanging from the balcony with some writing on it. As Draco reached for them, he realized that the sheet he was trying to cover himself with was tied to the corner of his four poster. Draco summoned a pair of pants and shoved them on before boldly walking out to pick up the boxers.

Two stories below Draco's veranda his mother's favorite rose garden flourished. Narcissa looked up from her cuttings to glance flatly up at him. Haughtily she returned to her white roses and ignored him. Looking at Theo's item, it said clearly in gold glitter, 'Theo Nott was here.' Draco rolled his eyes and walked back in out of the cold breeze. Theodore Nott so had it coming. Maybe he'd hire a goblin hooker and send her to his apartment later. Oh wait, Marietta Edgecombe would probably be cheaper. Smirking, he went off to shower. He'd have to make it up to his mother if he was going to pursue a conversation with Potter soon.'

After having been properly showered and scolded respectively, Narcissa Malfoy removed her delicate fingers from the fine silver spoon that rested in her tomato bisque and dropped them in her lap. She sat impossibly straighter in her chair and that simple cue was all Draco needed to stop ignoring his mother's words about 'besmirching the Malfoy name,' because now she was moving on to business.

"Now, if it is your plan to befriend Mr. Potter and his friends then I might have something for you. Just as long as you represent us well, of course." Narcissa added, her icy indignation in full swing.

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The next thing that Draco Malfoy knew he was submitting his manila parchment to Leliana, who seemed less surprised by his leaving before lunch than chocolate frogs hopping. His secretary knew too much. The funny thing about Slytherins is that Slytherins can always trust Slytherins to protect themselves first. If there was any benefit that Leliana may find in knowing the personal information of her boss, she wasn't talking. Her salary was far too high to even consider double-crossing him. Leliana looked like she could be family, her pointy nose and waves of blonde hair have Draco's clients checking their calling cards a second time. What makes her unmistakably not Malfoy was her bright brown eyes. There wasn't a brown eye the pureblood lineage. Those same eyes were looking up at him long-sufferingly now.

"A _personal _friend of yours called in a few minutes ago. She plans to have lunch with you. What should I tell her?" Leliana asked, her quick-notes quill popping out of the drawer to her left.

"Which one?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I think it is rather disturbing that you just asked that question."Leliana said, hiding her face from his scrutiny.

"Wow, aren't you opinionated this morning? I find it disturbing that my secretary doesn't have anything more important to do then trade witty banter with her boss. Who is it Leliana?"

"Miss Lovegood left a curious note for you this morning."

"Miss Lovegood isn't a _personal _friend, Leliana. I don't know her _personally._ Merlin, I was thinking someone like Lavender Brown was calling- again_."_ Draco tried not to physically shiver at the idea of Lavender's grabby hands on him once more. "Better let me see it then."

_I need legal support concerning the content of Quibbler. If you are up for the challenge, give me a firecall. _

_Luna Lovegood (Editor)_

There was an exceedingly large inkblot at the bottom of the scroll that seemed to be covering something, with that in mind he looked casually at his secretary who was grinning. Of course, she would be curious enough to know.

"And?"

She coughed politely and looked up at him, "You would be representing the Quibbler against the Prophet, if you should feel so inclined." She giggled.

"And?"

"Also, she says you should consider burning this document because its ink makes the most splendid smell when burned."

Draco arched an eyebrow and promptly pocketed the note. "Do call upon her." With that he was in the fire and at the banquet, straightening his dark blue muggle tie. This world would not change. It was and always has been about silk tablecloths and being better than their acquaintance. As a child, he was expected to attend all of these dull outings with bells on. He still remembered the first time he hid in his mother's robes and his father postured him correctly away from his mother's clutches. He said, "Stand on your own son, or no one will respect you."

He wondered if he internalized that too much or if it was true of everyone. As he looked across the room, each wizard stood as an island. Looking around for familiar faces, he spotted the female Weasley at once. Money had been good to her. Harry Potter was not far behind; money had been kind to him too. So was that position in the Auror's department to be honest. He wasn't gangly and scrawny any longer, but definitely a bit more toned. He looked like he had grown into his ruddy glasses or maybe it was the other way around. As Draco politely looked to the first of his mother's acquaintances, he caught a glimpse of that uncomfortable expression that was entirely Potter disappear into a champagne glass. Draco lost sight of the pair then with acquaintance after acquaintance wanting to trade pleasantries with the "most handsome of Malfoys since Abraxas."

It must have continued on for a full hour before the heavens opened up and sent Mrs. Zabini to him. She looked deeply satisfied with herself as Draco offered his arm to her at her polite prompt. It was hard to believe that she was his mother's age, but it wasn't hard to believe that had had so many husbands. Dressed in cutting edge muggle-fashion with her finest Malkin robes across her shoulders, Mrs. Zabini was a fox. Blaise got all of his looks from her too. It was obvious why they were able to move in such extinguished circles, even if they weren't old money. At the edge of the room near the balcony that was the only source of air in the stale company she smirked at him with her bright red lips.

"Tell me love, how is my dear Mrs. Malfoy?"

Before Draco could offer his bland excuse for his mother's absence, she cleared her throat.

"I assume she is well enough to send a note to me detailing your devious plan." She nodded ever so slightly in the direction of the veranda off to one side of them and Draco really owed her for this. He kissed her hand respectfully and she rolled her eyes. Then she disappeared in a whirl of expensive fabrics, leaving only the clicking of shoes as evidence of his escape from the room.

There was no one on the balcony as Draco took in the view. Mrs. Flamel's mansion overlooked the Italian countryside and although he had been here several times before, it was always nice to realize that Mother Nature always outdoes herself with the view. The heat from the direct sunlight was exactly why the balcony was empty at this time of day. Old Money might melt at the idea of direct sun, much less the real thing. Another thing that set the Zabini's apart. He was certain that Blaise could live off of sunlight alone.

Glancing around, Draco undid the smart blue tie he was wearing a bit, so that he could undo the first button. His finest black cloak over his grey business suit was starting to get a little too uncomfortable when a voice came from somewhere behind him. "Malfoy?" The curious voice seemed more shocked than disconcerted of his presence, which was good to hear.

He stood a bit taller and when he turned around, he fixed his face into a very aristocratic smile. Ginerva Weasley was flushed a bit by the Sun or perhaps by Draco's direct gaze was a far bit off. Remembering his tie, he pretended to be put off by his disheveled appearance. Being too pious and buttoned-up will put newcomers off. She was no different. "It is a pleasure, Miss Weasley. I hope your family is well."

Draco was rewarded with the look of shock that painted her face at his civility. It was strange. Had she truly expected him to insult her? Potter had all the publicity. Publicity was something that _his_ family was not exactly distinguished in for the past few years. It would do Draco no service to pick fights with people who were seen in the newspapers weekly. It did sound enticing though.

"They are. And yours?" Ginny replied, her politeness faulting into curiosity. Harry Potter appeared then, handing her a flute of champagne eyeing him suspiciously over her shoulder.

True to character a brass, "Malfoy, what are doing here?" swept from the Savior's lips like he had only known one phrase his entire life. Maybe he had. Malfoy couldn't restrain the smirk that crossed his mouth then, settling for a glance at Ginerva's green tea-length dress. Taking the glass from Harry a bit too harshly, she rolled her eyes at him. "Malfoy was just asking about the family, Harry. Merlin, I think you're worse at these things than my actual brothers sometimes."

"Why does he want to know?" Harry asked his friend. With that Draco felt his accusations worthy of crossing his arms in distain. She elbowed him, with which spilled out, "Ouch! Okay, why are you here?"

Ginny looked over at Draco once more, exasperated at how Harry was acting. Draco took that as a cue to answer. "I suppose that I am here to do the same as you. Invest money into a charity to assist those that cannot assist themselves." Draco looked away from Harry who was rubbing at his smarting rib, his expression close to guilty.

"And to answer the question you asked before Miss Weasley, my mother is under the weather today. This is her favorite charity event and she did not want to miss it entirely, so she sent me in her stead. My father is as well as can be expected. Do send my regards to your brother, Bill Weasley. I see him from time to time at Gringotts. He is exceedingly helpful with some of the vaults." Draco said simply. Stealing a glance at Harry, it was clear his plan to guilt the Golden Boy was working. "Now, if you don't mind, I believe I will excuse myself for some of that champagne. Draco sauntered a few steps into the doorway when Potter's call stopped him.

Sounding defeated, Harry jogged to Malfoy's side. Hiding his victorious smirk, Draco turned to look at him. Had Potter always been a few inches shorter than him? "I apologize for my…er…rudeness. It's-"

Draco flashed his white teeth at him. "Old habits die hard, Potter. I hope you two are enjoying a very happy engagement." Harry looked astounded that someone had gotten part of his life so completely incorrect. Draco was astounded that this was working so well. Potter looked over his shoulder at Ginerva who was shaking her head at Harry.

"Malfoy, Harry and I aren't-" Draco pretended to be surprised as he looked over them, remembering all of the titles that newspaper had written about their breakup.

"Well, I apologize. Forgive me if I don't keep up with the newspaper articles these days." Ginerva looked over at Harry, exchanging faces of serendipity. This was just too easy.

"Does that mean?" Draco allowed his eyes to rake over Harry's body from head-to-toe, methodically. He wasn't too surprised to see Harry's face turning red.

"Mean _what?" _Harry asked, all seriousness returning to his voice. Ginny for her part, finished off her champagne in a gulp. It felt natural to stand-up to his full height under the intense gaze of his one-time nemesis.

Draco smiled as genuine as he could and let the words curve of his tongue quietly. "I hope you don't mind me saying Potter, but you'd be quite a catch for any _man_." Harry looked past the three of them, not an ear in sight. Harry's eyes narrowed and Draco knew he was walking on eggshells. Draco found himself indulging an eye roll at the dramatic way Harry was looking at him.

"Potter, I don't blame you for assuming everything I say has some sort of malice behind it, but let me assure you-" Draco moved in ever so slightly, looking at either side of their group for emphasis. He spoke a bit quieter, "I wish you the best of luck in your _endeavors."_ Without a second glance Draco disappeared into the crowd of older women and men to mingle.

Harry stared after him, trying his best not to make an awkward face. Without looking at Ginny he asked, "Did he just joke with us?"

Ginny looked over at him, trying to decide whether she should be amused or confused. "Never mind _that_ Harry, I think he just complimented you."

* * *

It had been a week since the charity event and neither hide nor hair of Potter or his friends has turned up. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen, but glancing at the clock in the front hall, he knew that she would be visiting Lucius for a bit longer. He was sort of relieved, considering that his mother had been nonchalantly rubbing it in that the plan was "not as iron-clad" as her son has thought. Thinking on the discussion that he'd had with his mother just this morning was tiresome. His mother had also reminded him that his father was growing impatient with Draco's convenient lack of visits for the past month. He'd have to deal with that soon. One of the house elves approached him as soon as he had taken his cloak off with a letter for him. Ripping the letter open was all he could do in the stead of letting out a satisfied 'whoop' in the halls. It was in Ginny's hand.

_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_Harry and I wanted to apologize for how we acted toward you when we saw you last. It is clear that you have changed a lot since Hogwarts and we would like to extend this invitation to you and a friend for our Annual Quidditch Push-offs Party on the 25__th__ of July around 8 pm. The Holyhead Harpies' Banquet Hall will be where we intend to watch the first game of the season._

_Harry doesn't always know how to act in these sort of functions and you were right when you told him that 'old habits die hard.' Hopefully we could all move toward a more civil and sociable understanding._

_Cheers,_

_Ginerva Weasley_

_P.S. Owl this letter back with an R.S.V.P at your earliest convenience. _

The second half of the invitation was handwritten and he was certain that Harry Potter almost had no idea that his friend had even done something so very bold. Still he was thankful to catch a break. He looked at the clock's face again. Just a quarter after three and he owed that Blaise a galleon for their wager over the whole affair. Folding the note and placing it in his back pocket, Draco continued up the stairs to his rooms. Speaking of Blaise, he owed Blaise's mother-that saint a gift as well.


End file.
